I thought I’d feel confident.
I thought instinct would kick in.
I thought I’d just know how to care for my baby.
But my son came into the world with many unexpected health conditions including a dislocated hip, a tumour on his eye and laryngomalacia, a condition that made it hard for him to breathe when feeding. I really was not mentally prepared.
Suddenly, nothing felt safe or simple.
Not holding him.
Not feeding him.
Not even changing his nappy.
I was terrified. Terrified to move him the wrong way. Terrified to feed him and hear that awful sound, like he couldn’t catch his breath.
Terrified when he did stop breathing and I had to call an ambulance.
I loved this baby more than anything, but the baby days were something that i didn’t enjoy because fear and uncertainty were consuming every second.
The panic. The helplessness. The trauma that hides in everyday things, like a bottle of milk or a cry that lasts a little too long.
And underneath all of that fear was something even heavier: guilt.
Guilt that some of this might be genetic, something I passed down. I couldn’t stop asking myself: Was this my fault?
Everyone else saw a beautiful baby boy, and he really was, but i was so consumed by medical letters, worry, future surgeries and uncertainty. I was surviving on fear and adrenaline.
Even the smallest tasks felt scary.
What if I hurt him just by lifting his legs?
I didn’t feel like his mum, I felt like a powerless observer.
But I’m allowing myself to say:
Even when I felt like I was failing, I wasn’t.
I still showed up, even when I was petrified. Even when i wasn’t fully hands on and my family would step in i was still doing things for my son, i was researching surgeons, looking into how i can best supporting him and washing his bottles.
Because that’s what motherhood can look like: Not always glowing or calm or instinctual. But full of quiet courage. Of doing hard things with a heart that’s breaking and healing at the same time.
This is my postpartum truth.
And I’m sharing it during Maternal Mental Health Awareness Week because I know there’s a mum out there feeling like she’s the only one going through this.
If that’s you
You’re not broken.
You’re not a bad mum.
You’re not alone.
If you need emotional support please seek it.
Let’s speak the unspoken.